


World's Finest

by inkblots85



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Family, Fatherhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkblots85/pseuds/inkblots85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re more like…a brother. You can protect him and teach him and shit, but the responsibility of being someone for him to look up to and strive to be like is just not one you’re fit to handle. If he’s Superman then you’re more like Batman; the regular dude that deals with all the shit that comes with humanity so the real hero can focus on saving us from threats we can’t even imagine. Brothers in bond if not blood and together you’re World’s Finest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World's Finest

You struggled, you fought, and you lived for over 20 years for one person and one person only, yourself. You were the happy Strider flavored center of your personal universe. No one relied on you and you relied on no one. Not a big deal, you always figured it came with the territory of being a rad as fuck man of action. That is until a meteorite carrying a dead horse and a baby leveled your favorite record store and changed everything.

The part of you that will always be six years old and still believes in superheroes is delighted. Here you have your own alien baby with wicked meteor powers to shape in your image. But fact is fact; you’re no Jonathan Kent raising a mild mannered reporter. If anyone asked you about one day becoming a father, you’d probably just laugh at them. You’re good at knocking heads, laying beats and surviving; you can’t be a dad. You never even had a dad, how the fuck can be one?

You’re more like…a brother. You can protect him and teach him and shit, but the responsibility of being someone for him to look up to and strive to be like is just not one you’re fit to handle. If he’s Superman then you’re more like Batman; the regular dude that deals with all the shit that comes with humanity so the real hero can focus on saving us from threats we can’t even imagine. Brothers in bond if not blood and together you’re World’s Finest.

You name him Dave.

~~~

You remember hearing once that boys tend to talk less when they’re babies, but Dave is like FUCK STEREOTYPES I am going to babble at you for days because I have shit to say and it’s not my fault that you can’t understand it. He really is a kid after your heart. He doesn’t cry a lot, but he does yell when he wants something from you. He also looks at you like you’re stupid when you have a hard time figuring out how to do simple tasks like carry him with one arm and prepare a meal with the other. And whoa buddy he does not like Cal. At all.

But that’s just normal baby crap. What’s not so normal is when you’re not paying close enough attention and he bumps into a wall in his walker hard enough to knock down one of your swords. You’re fast, but not nearly fast enough to get to him in time, but it’s okay because Dave just looks up and the sword freezes in mid air. You snatch him away and the sword falls to the floor. He laughs and babbles and bounces in your arms like he’s trying to ask you if you saw what he did. 

You’re more concerned with trying to make your heart beat again.

~~~

One night Dave comes running into your room completely terrified over a dream about a purple room where he can hear voices calling for help. You had worked a double shift at the shipping warehouse (that job is fucking killing you, you need to figure something else out) and all you want is to sleep. So instead of comforting him and assuring him that it was just a dream and didn’t mean anything, you tell him that if he shuts the hell up you’ll teach him how to work your turntables. He looks at you like you promised the secrets to the universe and is quiet for the rest of the night.

When you wake up the next morning he’s snuggled into your side. No discomfort. No bad dreams. It’s like your presence alone is enough to keep him safe. You extract yourself from the bed and tuck him in. Let him get a little more sleep while you make breakfast and set up your equipment. You have a promise to keep.

~~~

He’s terrible. He has absolutely no ear at all. What Dave does have is a lot of enthusiasm, which is a lot more than most can say.

~~~

He’s getting older and it’s time you teach him how to use a sword. Technically, he won’t legally be able to have a strife specibus for another three years, but what the hell. Your kid is not most kids and will be saving the world one day. 

Your kid brother, of course. 

Once again he has more enthusiasm than talent. He keeps over-swinging like his sword is much heavier than it is. Maybe you should try getting him something heavier and see how he does. But…not yet. He’s still really young and needs to grow more. 

He is, however, really fucking fast. Like shit, he’s definitely faster than you and the only thing keeping him from getting the jump on you is experience. It’s been a while since Dave’s reminded you that he did in fact fall from the sky and as scary it is, it also makes you really excited for the man he’s going to become. He’s smart and well liked and can talk a mile of bullshit in seconds. Even if he never becomes some sort of comic book-like figure, you know he’s destined for greatness.

You’re so fucking proud of him it hurts. In a good way.

~~~

The sky is on fire and you don’t know why or how, but you know it’s time for Dave to do what he’s been born to do. It’s just that…he’s still so young. He’s not ready. (You’re not ready.) His footwork is fast, but he’s still so unsure. He’s just a kid and he has to save the world. (You can’t say goodbye to him yet.) It’s not fair.

But it is what it is. So you take your sword and prepare yourself to do what you’ve always done. You’ll clear the path for him and he’ll rise to the challenge with clumsiness and enthusiasm like he was always meant to. 

You’re just sad that you won’t get to see it this time.


End file.
